


Sicarius

by aquaposeidon



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Anxiety, Assassin Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Assassination, Baking, Blood and Violence, Death, Dream/GeorgeNotFound - Freeform, Forbidden Love, M/M, Panic Attacks, Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), References to Depression, Song: Sweater Weather (The Neighbourhood), Theft, Threats of Violence, dreamnotfound, lots of crying and hugging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaposeidon/pseuds/aquaposeidon
Summary: Dream is assigned to kill George, but will he?this was HEAVILY inspired by "Agent 03" on wattpad by oh_dreeeam and "Protected" on ao3 by Aenqa
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 12





	1. Sugar

His feet made imprints in the ground as he walked. The only sound for miles around was the light sounds of Clay panting as he trekked through thick layers of branches and moss. As he reaches the edge of the woods he looks up, over the large field of flowers the sun is rising into purple and orange, he can hear the early morning hustle from the city surrounding the castle. 

He takes off his mask and takes a big deep breath, calming himself down a bit. After enjoying mother nature's work for a small moment, he puts his mask back on and begins walking along the forest line, looking at the different types of flowers. He sees a light purple flower. Carefully picking it, and shoving it into his pocket, for safekeeping. He reaches the city, taking his usual route, past all the homes, past the bars, past the grocers and traders, until he stops in front of a cafe. It was falling apart, the brick walls had moss all over and vines that went from the roof all the way down to the ground. The welcome sign was falling off its hinges and nobody dared touching the windows as it would turn a porcelain finger black with dust and dirt. 

Opening the door with a loud creak, his nose is filled with the scent of fresh baked goods and coffee. Nobody but one worker was inside as it was too small to seat anyone. The walls were lined with fake plants and herbs. He didn't know why others didn't like this place. It made him feel safe. The old wooden floor creaks as he makes his way to the counter. 

A man turns to Clay. He was short and stubby, with a long, but tamed beard. His nose, ears, and chin seemed way too big for his face, off putting proportions. He was wearing dark blue overalls over a tan shirt, the sleeves rolled up. As he turns around, Clay notices the clear glass cup he's washing with an overused rag. “Welcome! Do ya know what yer gonna get?” He smiles, showing off unkempt, crooked yellow teeth, he seemed to be the happiest person in the town. 

He suddenly remembered why he was there. This was his first time meeting his boss. He quickly said “Er, yeah, can I get a jasmine tea, 13 sugars?” It was an unusual order, but that's what his boss told him to say when he arrived. The dwarf's face dropped and went pale. Clay wondered if he had done something wrong. 

The shorter man quickly set down his cup. “Right away sir, follow me.” He led him into the back through a narrow hallway, the walls were lined with more herbs, books, and random pages of notes everywhere. A lot messier than how the front was presented. The smaller man stood next to a door, and quietly said “h-here you are sir. H-have a good day.” he quickly shuffled away, walking as fast as his little legs would allow. 

Clay gently twisted the door handle, this door made no noise, not even a single creak. Walking in, the room was very dark. Everything seemed to either be painted black, or made of very dark brown wood. Looking around, Clay noticed many small details, including the horns hung proudly on the wall, the large bulletin board filled with pages, and the large, dark area rug covering almost every inch of the room. There was a polished, shiny desk in the corner where a tall, light brown haired man sat. Clay felt very under dressed in his green hoodie and black ripped jeans, as he stared at the clean man in a very nice suit. Clay instantly knew who the man was, even though he has never seen him before. Schlatt. Either Schlatt was ignoring him, or hadn't noticed him come in so Clay cleared his throat. 

Schlatt's head snapped up. Pointing to a dark leather chair in front of the desk, Clay gets the hint and sits. Clay felt awkward, so he played with his fingers in his hands. Schlatt breaks the unsettling silence by simply saying “Dream, look at me.” 

Clay quickly obeys and looks into Schlatt's eyes through the mask. They were dark and didn't show any emotion, his lips were pressed into a thin line. Schlatt leans forward, and over the desk he grabs the bottom of the mask, pulling it up slightly, only revealing Clays mouth. Clay wanted to smack his hand out of the way and tell him no, but he knew that he would end up dead if he did anything like that. Without seeing anything more than his mouth, Schlatt pulled the mask back down. 

“What's the point? The fake name, the mask, why do you keep yourself so hidden?” Schlatt asks. Clay doesn't know what to say. He already knew the answer to both of Schlatt's questions, but wasn't ready to answer them. He quickly thought back to his mother. Someone who was constantly running and hiding from the government. He thought about her pink bunny mask that she had spent hours working on. His was lousy compared to hers. His was just a simple white with a black smiley face drawn onto it. It didn't take him more than 30 seconds to make, but it worked. He also thought back to multiple childhood memories with an old friend but shook his head to get rid of the bad thoughts. 

“Fear?” He meant it as a statement but it came out sounding like a question. “I don't know, I don't want people knowing who I am, I think it makes it harder for someone to become attached to me, so that makes it easier to take their life.” He finished quickly, going back to playing with his fingers in his hands, thankful for the mask as he felt a light heat spread across his face due to embarrassment. Schlatt just quietly hummed and leaned back into his chair, putting his ankle on one knee, resting his head in his hand. 

He began searching for papers, after finding the one he was looking for, he passed it over to Clay, who silently accepted it. Clays eyes roamed over the paper. The page was filled with various names, dates, and locations. He has been in this exact situation before, but never with Schlatt. His boss always had different employees do this part for him. He just had to pick someone to kill, and kill them before the deadline. Easy, right? No. He couldn't get attached to his victim, he had a deadline, and it was a lot of hard work, but he got paid money, which was much needed. 10 years ago, when he was 11, both his parents had died in the war, leaving him to take care of his, at the time, 4 year old sister. Now he was 21 and she was 14. They had a good system, Drista would cook, clean, do the shopping, and take care of the garden while Clay would leave for a few days at a time, completing missions and doing various tasks for Schlatt. 

As he skimmed over the page, he noticed that none of these missions would only take a few days. He had never done a long mission. He knew he was taking too long to decide, he could feel Schlatt's eyes burning into the top of his head as he looked down. Schlatt cleared his throat and Clay quickly read off the first name he saw; “Prince George.” After realizing what he had done, he looks up and sees Schlatt smirking, Clay nervously cracks his knuckle and continues, “I'll kill Prince George. I have until December 18th, and it's October 15th now. So I will take the next few days to think about how I will do it. It will be difficult, as he is the prince but I think I can do it.”

“Dream. I need a definite answer. I need to know you can do it, if you don't, I won't hesitate to kill you. Prince George needs to be dead by December 18th.” Schlatt snaps back. 

Clay just nods his head, mentally kicking himself for not thinking about how he was wording things. He silently excuses himself from Schlatt's office. How was he supposed to kill the Prince? He walked out of the cafe and made his way back home. His head filled with ideas, all seeming too hard for him to accomplish. He was one of Schlatt's best assassins, but he did have his limits. He had plenty of time, but he needed to somehow get into the castle. He would think about it later. Looking back up, he sees his home, only a few yards away. It was made out of chipped stone, his home was once grey but it was quickly darkening as years of dirt were caked onto the stone, the thin windows hardly kept out cold breezes and the wooden door could be heard from miles away as it creaked.

As he walked in, he was greeted by the smell of something Drista was cooking for breakfast. Taking off his muddy boots and hanging his mask on a hook, he walked down the hall. His muscles tensed as he sat down at the small table they had in the kitchen. Drista silently greeted him with a small smile that he happily mirrored. She plated both of their food, eating warm eggs and sausage in silence for a few minutes before Drista quietly asked “So what did he assign you to do now?” 

Clay jumped a little at the sudden noise. How was he supposed to tell her that he needed to kill the prince and it was a job that was going to take 2 months? How was he going to kill the prince anyways? He somehow needed to get into the castle, gain the prince's trust and then kill him. He had killed royalty before, but since then, the castle has become heavily guarded and you were extremely lucky if you got to even step a foot into the castle. 

His thoughts were interrupted as his sister tapped her fork onto his plate, making a clanking sound. Oh yeah, “Um, well, he didn't give me many options. None of them were small jobs, he's having me kill someone again.” he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He didn't always have to kill people. Sometimes the things he would need to do could be as simple as grocery shopping for Schlatt. He didn't like killing people at first, and he still doesn't, but he doesn't mind it as much now. After swallowing his food he continued, “I took up the job of killing the prince, and it's going to take 2 months.” Drista just stared at him in shock, her mouth agape as she was at a loss of words. 

Clay looked at his sister, and quickly reassured her with “I won't be gone for 2 months. It's gonna take me a bit to figure out how to get into the castle, and I'm sure I can figure out how to come back and see you, just save the food, don't be expecting me all the time, getting out of the castle is just as hard as getting in.” Drista just nodded and took a bite of sausage. 

After they choked down their food, Drista was doing the dishes and Clay had offered to do the shopping so he could give her a break. 

“Um, yeah sure, we need eggs, flour and would you mind picking up some milk too?” Clay just nodded and silently left with his mental grocery list, grabbing his mask on the way out. They were poor, but they were happy...mostly. 

The city had a weird layout. There were sections for everything. A section for bars, a section for shopping, a section for residency, and a section for education. All these sections were surrounding the town square. In the town square, all the latest news and announcements were displayed on a giant post right next to a beautiful water fountain. More than half the town struggled financially so you wouldn't expect to have such a nice water fountain in such a poor town. 

Clay was making his way to the post, just to make sure no new rules or laws had been made while he was gone. It was cold, looking around he could see the once bright green trees turning orange and red. He could feel the cold wind going right through the rips in his jeans and it makes him shiver all over. He rubs his hands together for warmth as he skims the board, making mental notes of different events coming up before his eyes landed on a giant piece of paper that had large words at the top saying “BAKERS NEEDED FOR HALLOWEEN BALL, DETAILS BELOW” his eyes wandered down the page. Reading over the details. There would be baker auditions on the 18th, only a handful of people would be selected to help with the baking. He was ecstatic at this opportunity. He gets all the things Drista asked for, but before heading back home he walks into the library. Clay can hear the door ring as a small bell is triggered. Nobody goes to the library so it was quiet and smelled of dust, rotting wood, and paper. 

Roaming the aisles, he finally comes to a stop when he sees a dusty sign that reads “Cooking Books”. He sets down his groceries and grabs a random book off the shelf, he flicks the pages in his hand, The smell of a new book flooding his nose. Looking closer, this book was on how to make quick and easy dinners. Not what he needed. Looking over his book options in front of him again, he grabs one that has a picture of a giant piece of cake on the front. “Desserts to impress anyone”. Kind of a lame name, but he tucks the book under his arm anyways and picks up his bag of groceries off the ground. It was now midday, so when he exited the quiet library, he could overhear multiple peoples conversations all around him as everyone was hustling around shopping for warm winter clothes, food, and buying Halloween decorations. 

He quickly stopped at a small shop again and bought some sugar, not helping his money situation and made his way home. Everyone was talking about the Halloween ball. Nobody was surprised they were having a ball, they had a ball for every special occasion, but the castle was allowing people from the city to cook in the royal kitchens. After the queen was killed, the castle gained many trust issues, making it very hard to work for the castle unless you were the best of the best. 

He walked into his home, took off his mask and saw Drista quietly reading on the couch. He put the groceries away and sat next to Drista, catching her attention, she put down her book.  
“The castle is hiring people to bake for the Halloween ball.” He stated. Drista raised her eyebrows, silently queuing for him to go on, “and I think it would be a good opportunity to get into the castle, but I have no idea how to cook, let alone bake. Could you help? It's going to be really hard, but if we practice everyday, I think I could do it, and we can eat baked goods everyday, so that's a plus.”  
Dritsas forehead furrowed as she was clearly deep in thought. 

“Sure, but Clay...we don't have the money to afford anything to bake.” she sounded disappointed. Clay grabbed her hand and led her into the kitchen, showing her the sugar he bought. 

“This is called an investment. I need to practice as much as I can to get into the castle. After that, that castle will give me triple the money we have now.” His eyes were shining with excitement. He was holding his sister's hands in his own, lightly squeezing. He was smiling and he was truly happy to have been given this opportunity. His sister still looked sad. He could tell that she was worried. She gave him a sad smile and nodded her head. She explained that she was tired and wanted to take a nap and headed to her room. Clay agreed that they both needed a break and he made his way to the couch. Since they didn't have much money, they could only afford a house with one bedroom, so he gave it to Drista since she was home more than he was. He tried to sleep but random thoughts invaded his mind. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was only 2pm, so he grabs the book he picked up earlier and began reading. 

\----

Clay was now walking around the kitchen, grabbing various items that he needed and mentally checking them off the list. He walked to the cupboard and grabbed flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, vegetable oil, and vanilla extract. After piling all the ingredients into his arms, he carefully walks back to the counter and sets everything down. Now making a second trip to the fridge, he grabs eggs, milk, and butter. He stares at the ingredients in front of him, taking a big deep breath, he goes over to the cookbook and quietly reads the first directions out loud. 

“Preheat Oven & Prepare Dry Ingredients: To start, preheat your oven to 350°F and insert liners into your cupcake pan. In a medium-sized bowl, combine flour, baking powder & salt and set aside.” This was going to be harder than he thought. He grabs a medium sized bowl as instructed, and scooped a cup of flour out of the bag, when he tried to put the flour into the bowl, a giant flour cloud poofed out of the bowl, causing him to cough. 

Drista hears Clay coughing and runs into the kitchen with a worried look on her face. When she sees what's happening, she can't help but laugh. Clay turns around to look at his sister, and she now has her hands on her knees, laughing harder than ever before at Clay. His face is covered in flour, and specks of flour were sticking to his clothes. Clay grabs a fistful of flour and throws it at her sister. Her fit of laughter comes to a sudden stop, she glares at her brother. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” She screams. It was now Clays turn to bust with laughter. His laugh was hardy audible as he wheezed, his lungs running out of air. Drista just stood there with a smile on her face, waiting for him to calm down. 

After what feels like forever, Drista offers to help Clay bake some cupcakes. They decently clean up some of the flour and finish the first step in the book. They both wordlessly agreed to shower after they bake. That was the best part about them, it was like they could mentally send messages to each other. Just one look at each other and they were speaking with their eyes. It came in handy during some cases.

Drista reads the second step loud and clear for Clay to hear, “Mix Wet Ingredients: In a large bowl, add your butter, sugar, oil and vanilla extract, beating together until the mixture is light and fluffy. This will take no less than 3-4 minutes. You’ll want to add your eggs next, one at a time, mixing after each until mostly combined. Scrape the sides of the bowl as needed to ensure all ingredients are well incorporated.”  
Clay grabs a large bowl, adding the butter, sugar, oil and vanilla extract, doing exactly as the book says. Right as Clay reaches for the eggs, he feels a light punch to his arm. He looks up and his eyes meet Dristas. 

She opens her mouth and says “I want to do the eggs, you have done everything else so far, I want to help.” Dream thinks for a moment. Knowing an argument was going to start if he tells her no, so he just nods his head, handing Drista 2 eggs to crack into the bowl. His arm was a bit sore, she was strong for only being 14 years old. He watches as she cracks an egg, stirs, then cracks the second egg. After everything is mixed, Clay walks over to her and swipes his finger into the bowl, quickly sticking his pointer finger in his mouth so it doesn't drip. 

“CLAY! IT HAS RAW EGG!” Drista screams. Why does she yell so much? Clay lightly chuckles, ignores her and goes to read the next step silently. 

“Drista come here and read this, it makes no sense.” Clay explains. She reads it over and over again before she finally gets it. 

“You're an idiot. Only add in half the dry ingredients, then add the milk, then add the rest of the dry ingredients. It's not that hard.” Clay is a little bit shocked at the sudden attitude, but ignores it. He does as she says and soon enough he has a smooth batter. 

He pours the mixture into the cupcake liners and Drista makes her way over to the couch. He puts the pan into the oven and sets a timer for 15 minutes before walking over to the couch and sitting next to Drista, both still covered in flour. They both didn't know what to say so they didn't say anything at all, the silence was comfortable though. Clays hand rested on his knee as he was deep in thought. Earlier, he did get a little bit over excited, he had never baked in his entire life. How did he expect to be able to bake for the castle, a royal family, the king and prince plus all of the guests. The auditions were in three days and he's currently making cupcakes for the first time ever. He glances at the clock, it reads 5pm, and as if on cue, the timer goes off. Cupcakes for dinner. 

He walked over to the oven, gently piercing a knife through one of the cupcakes, and the knife came out with no residue, meaning the cupcakes were done. He sets the pan on the stove and grabs a large plate. He didn't make any frosting because he couldn't afford powdered sugar, that wasn't going to be good for the auditions if he didn't know how to make frosting.  
He plates all 12 cupcakes before setting it in front of himself and his sister. Glancing up, he smiles and says “bon Appetit.” 

\------

30 minutes and 7 cupcakes later, they were both stuffed with sugar and flour. The cupcakes were good, but Clay needed to be more than good. Clay and Drista were both still sitting at the table, simply enjoying each others company, knowing that Clay was possibly going to be spending 2 months in a castle. Drista was the first to rise from her seat, stating that she was going to take a shower. She left and that's when Clay got up, cleaning off dishes and tidying up the kitchen. He kept thinking of how he was going to kill the prince if he didn't get the chance to bake for the ball. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. The thought of him leaving for 2 months to hide in the castle scared him, he had never left Drista alone for that long, but the thought of not completing his mission and Schlatt killing him scared him even more. Chills ran up his spine at the thought. He heard Dristas feet padding against the floor as she made her way to her room with a towel wrapped around her body, she smiled at Clay on the way. He was going to miss her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if ur not into baking stuff, dont worry, the whole fic doesnt go on like this. anyways ive never written fanfiction so im terrified but im in love with my own plot so here i am, writing it


	2. The Sicarius

!!!! i did update the warnings on this, graphic violence, blood, puke, and self harm is going to be a slightly common theme in this fic. feel free to not read this fic if anything of that sort triggers you. Stay safe <3

His back hurt. The couch was old and worn, the wooden foundation was beginning to dig into Clays back as he slept. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a small groan. Sitting up, he glances at the clock. It reads 7:23am. He stands up and stretches, letting out a small sigh before making his way into the bathroom. He locks the bathroom door and turns to face himself in the mirror. He was tall and lanky. The ripped jeans that once fit him seemed to double in size. His eyes were green and young, yet his purple and yellow under eye bags said otherwise. 

He slipped off his shirt, you could see his ribs now. He didn't eat much these days, he was too busy completing tasks for Schlatt and his main priority was his sister so sometimes he would tell her he wasn't hungry so she could get enough to eat. He was thankful that he had just a bit of muscle in his arms and legs due to constantly needing to jump fences, run from people after stealing, and climbing trees to get away from the police. 

He just sighed and turned the knob on the shower. It didn't matter if you tried setting the water to hot. They were too poor to afford any hot water. In one swift movement, he takes off his pajama bottoms and underwear. A small purple flower falling out of his back pocket, he picks it up and looks at it. It's old and dead, no point in pressing it. He sets it on the small edge of the bathroom sink. He stepped into the shower and kept his eyes focused on the shower head as he quietly sang his favorite song. 

_And all I am is a man_ , He dipped his head under the shower attachment, shivering at the touch of the cold water. 

_I want the world in my hands_ , He grabbed the shampoo off the shower organizer. 

_I hate the beach, but I stand in California with my toes in the sand._ He wiggled his toes as he sang, lathering the shampoo into his hair. 

_Use the sleeves on my sweater, let's have an adventure._ He looked back at the shower head and sighed, eyes tearing up. 

_Head in the clouds but my gravity centered._ He let a tear slip from his eye, it left a warm trail down his cheek. 

_Touch my neck,_ he reached a hand up to his neck, _and I'll touch yours._ Unable to finish the song, he quickly washes his body and gets out of the shower as fast as his body will let him. He scrubs his head and body with one towel and rushes to change into his clothes. A hoodie and jeans, that's what he wore everyday, but today was a special day. He needed to be a baker for the prince and king. He wore the hoodie his sister made him right before their parents died, it was a basic white sweatshirt that had a smiley face drawn onto it with a sharpie. That's where the design for the mask came into place. Basic, but meaningful. 

He walked out of the bathroom, grabbing his dirty clothes on the way out. His feet made a soft sound with each step as he walked to his sisters room. 

“Drista,” he said loud enough to wake her. He could see her shifting under the blankets. “Drista, it's time to get up, it's almost eight o'clock and I need to leave soon.” He needed to be at the castle by 10:00 this morning and he wanted to spend a little time with his sister before he left. 

Walking into the living room, he threw his dirty clothes into the basket labeled ‘dirty laundry, do. Not. wear.’ and grabbed a random pair of socks out of the basket labeled ‘clean’. 

As he was putting on his socks he could hear Drista walk out of her room, quietly making her way into the kitchen. He can hear the clanking of dishes as she prepares to make breakfast for the both of them. He really admired her hard work. She cooked everyday, whether it was for just herself or the both of them, she kept the house nice and tidy, and did all their laundry, Clay truly thought she deserved way more than what she got. Clay didn't do much, he just had a job for a cruel man. The only reason he has the job is because of an old friend. They were friends in school until Clay's parents died. That was when Clay needed to drop out of school and become a full time parent to his little sister. She didn't go to school at all because she needed to be home and take care of the house while Clay was gone, but she would often go to the library and read books to educate herself, or sometimes her and Clay would sit down for hours talking about math, or write short stories together. 

One day Clay and his friend, Nick, were doing what they did everyday. They would head over to the flower fields, gather as many flowers as possible and press them in books they got from the library.

  
  


\---

  
  


Clay was picking all the purple flowers he could find. He was so mesmerized by how many flowers there were, he didn't even notice his friend Nick come up and jump on him. At first he was annoyed but soon began laughing with his younger friend. They were both laying in the middle of the field, sitting in comfortable silence until Nick was the one to break it, “Hey man, can you call me Sapnap?” 

Clay just looked at.. “Sapnap” and laughed. He didn't know what to say, Sapnap? Where did this come from? His only response was “Why?” 

His friend laughed lightly and Clay's vague response. “Well…,” Sapnap was silent for a few moments, his small smile quickly faded, his lips were pursed as he thought, “I got a job yesterday and the company I work for is really...weird, I guess you could say. If I get caught working at my age, I don't wanna have to give up my actual name so I decided I wanna go by a fake name. Is that alright?” It made sense. Clay was only 10 and Sapnap was only 8 years old. It wasn't abnormal for kids their age to secretly get small jobs to help with money in the house, many kids would go around selling homemade items, or offering to clean various rooms, but nobody was legally allowed to work until they were at least 15. 

“Okay...Snapmap- er Sapnap, sorry,” he tested out the name in his mouth. It was almost tongue twisting when it was pronounced. “Yeah but um, can I ask what company you're working for? I need money too.” 

Sapnap hesitated. Clay was worried. They never kept secrets from each other. “Um, yeah sure, it's called The Sicarius. I just have to do things for this guy, like.. dangerous things. He said I have...um.. I don't know if I should be telling you this.” 

Clay was taken aback and shocked that his best friend isn't telling him what was going on. In the best way he could, he tried to comfort his friend with words, “It's okay, but I don't see why it's that big of a deal. I'm not going to tell the castle or anything, we're friends and maybe we could even work together.” Clay smiled, curiosity getting the best of him, he urged Sapnap to continue. 

“Okay, well.. um, yeah I guess so, he said I have 3 days to steal a leather belt from a shop and if I don't do it..” Sapnaps face went red and a few tears slipped from his eyes, “He's going to kill me. He said if I don't do exactly what he says by the deadlines he gives me, he's going to kill me.” Sapnap was full on sobbing now. The tears wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. Clay was shocked to say the least. Before Clay could say anything to calm down his distressed friend, they both saw someone emerge from the woods, giving each of them a deadly look. 

Clay nor Sapnap blinked an eye. Sapnaps little choked sobs could be heard from the left side of Clay. The dark figure quickly walked up to them. When the man reached them, Clay could get a closer look. He was tall and skinny, just like Clay, he was wearing long black robes and had a black hood covering his head, showing no part of his face. When the stranger realized that neither of the two boys were gonna talk, he spoke in a dark and low voice, “Sapnap, thank you for recruiting your little friend. He looks strong.” Clay was confused, was his friend using him? Did he know he was gonna ask for a job? When Clay looked over and met eyes with Sapnap, his younger friend looked equally as confused. 

“What's your name?” He said loudly, but not too loud. Clay didn't know what to say. His heart was racing and he was flooded with fear. He wished, hoped, and even prayed that this was all a bad “Dream.”

“Okay, Dream, you now work for The Sicarius. You, me, Sapnap, and hundreds of others all work for one man. His name is Schlatt. I am a reporter, a reporter tells everyone what their missions and deadlines are. Clearly you now know what Sapnaps is, but you don't tell anyone about anything, or you will be killed.” Clay just blinked, taking in all the information he was being given. He didn't have long to think before the man spoke again. “Normally, I would kill Sapnap right here in front of you, but I am not going to.” This terrified Clay. 

The taller man walked over to Sapnap and pinned him down, holding his arm out, leaving it on display. Clay just yelled, afraid to move. 

“PLEASE! NO! He's my best friend, please don't kill him, I will make sure he doesn't say a single wo-” 

“Shut up, I said I'm not gonna kill him.” The man interrupted him. Grabbing a piece of cloth out of his robes, shoving it into Sapnaps mouth. Clay was confused. What was he going to do to his friend? The two younger boys made eye contact, Sapnaps new tears were going across the trails of old, dried tear streaks. Clay felt so bad he couldn't do anything, he knew the creepy man wouldn't hesitate to kill both of them if he needed to. 

The man then pulled out a pocket knife and began carving into Sapnaps arm. That's what the cloth was for. The only thing that could be heard was Sapnaps muffled screams for mercy. Clay was crying, he couldn't watch his friend go through this so he turned away. 

When the reporter got up, he collected the cloth, wiped off his knife and put his items away. “Don't mention The Sicarius to anyone ever again.” He said in a low, monotone voice before directing his attention back to Clay. 

“I want you to simply steal some bread from the bakery and meet me back here with it in two days and that is when I will give you another task, along with another deadline. If you fail to complete the task, I will kill you. If you fail to show up in two days, I will kill you. And don't think about running or hiding because Schlatt has eyes and ears on you at all times.” and with that, before anyone could ask any questions, the man was back off into the woods. 

\----

Clay's thoughts were interrupted as Drista announced it was time to eat. He gets up and reaches his arms over his head, feeling a couple bones in his back quietly pop as he stretches. Even with his socks, the wooden floor was cold. 

Before he knew it, the time was already 9:15 and he needed to get going, he didn't want to risk being late. He got up, looking around his house. He took note of the old pictures of his parents, the plants along the windowsill, the large book of pressed flowers on a nearby shelf, the giant jar of rocks his sister used to collect, he continued looking around for a moment, reminiscing in memories before his eyes landed on the figure in front of him. His sister. 

The first thing he notices is his sister quietly crying. He quickly ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed harder. They stood in the middle of the kitchen like this momentarily before Drista finally spoke. “I’m gonna miss you.” was all she said. 

“I’ll be back, I promise.” He knew it wasn't guaranteed that he would come back, but he felt so guilty knowing he was the one causing his sister this pain. She was only 14 and already taking care of herself. He just wanted to be a kid again, watching movies on the couch with his sister while their parents made popcorn. He wanted to teach her how to walk again, he wanted to teach her how to talk. He wanted to sit at the dining room table and teach her how to read while pressing flowers. He couldn't hold it in anymore and once one tear fell, many more followed. 

Drista looked up at him and gave him a small smile. Neither of them knew what to say, so no words were spoken. Gently releasing himself from the hug, Clay held his sister's shoulders. Looking her in the eyes, she had the same bright green eyes that Clay had. He has so much he wanted to say, but he didn't trust himself not to cry harder. She understood, gently nodding her head. Clay mirrored the small smile she had previously given him. He walked away from his sister and began putting his shoes on. This could possibly be his final goodbye. It could always be his final goodbye but this job was the most dangerous job he had ever taken up. He tied the laces on his shoes and stood up. His sister just watched from the side. He walked over to her and gave her one last hug. Then he grabbed his mask and he was gone.

When he stepped outside the air was cold and hard. Thankful for the mask as it blocked out most of the wind from reaching his face, but the air managed to get through the holes in his pants. He started walking, thinking to himself. He didn't expect many people to audition as many people didn't have very much faith in themselves. So he was shocked to see so many people emerging from their houses at the same time he did. The whole village couldn't possibly be auditioning? Could they? The castle wouldn't allow that, surely.

He walked past the sign stating “Residence” and made his way into the town square, looking around at everyone. People gave stares for the mask he wore, but he just ignored them. He looked at the long, paved trail that led to the castle. A large variety of people were walking to the castle. Some were wearing aprons, some were wearing chefs hats, which seemed pointless to Clay. He began walking to the castle along with many others, refreshing his memory of all the information he had learned over the last few days. If he was being honest, he had no hope in himself. 

Now his nerves were kicking in. So many things could go wrong, he could feel his gut wrenching inside of him. He felt like he was going to throw up. He wasn't going to win, Schlatt was going to kill him and his sister would be left alone at the house. His sister. This was all for his sister. This wasn't his fault. This was Sapnaps fault. Nicks fault. Clay could feel his blood boiling. He didn't know how to respond to so many emotions. He took a deep breath and looked up. He was shocked to see that he was only about 100 feet away from the castle doors. 

When he reached the door, he could see 3 lines formed, he went into the far right one. If his nerves were not bad before they sure were now. As he got closer to the front of the line he could see guards patting down everyone who entered. This was going to get uncomfortable. 

3 people, 2 people, he stepped in front of the guard. Clay stood in a star position as the guard began touching his arms. Clay looked up to avoid making eye contact. The guard slid his own hands from his armpit all the way down to the tip of Clays fingers. He then slid his hands down his torso, then down each leg and yelled “next”. Clay hurried off into the castle. 

The castle was beautiful. Everything looked so.. _Expensive._ The largest staircase he had ever seen was right in front of him. It was all so much to take in. There was a room to the left of him with couches and a table that looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. To his right there was a ballroom that was flooded with people, assuming that's where he needed to be, that's where he went. He didn't notice the man walking up to him as he admired the art work on the walls. Lightly tapping his shoulder before he spoke, 

“Beautiful isn't it?” He asked, his voice was low and he had a mild accent. Clay just stared at him, the man was only about 2 inches taller than Clay, but Clay was clearly a lot skinnier. He was wearing a nice suit and his hair looked like he tried to comb it to the side, but it was clear the curls made it impossible. The smell of expensive cologne radiated off of him. His face was freshly shaved and his eyebrows had been plucked. It was clear he worked for the castle. 

“Yeah...yeah it is.” was all Clay could manage to spit out. He didn't want to mess up in front of anyone in case they were important. 

“Care to freshen up in the bathrooms? There are plenty of products to make yourself look nice.” The man had offered. Clay couldn't tell if this was an insult to him or if the man was just being nice. So he just nods his head and follows him as he leads him to the bathroom, giving him a small thanks before walking in. 

It was a private bathroom with a huge counter and a toilet that looked like it cost more than his house, probably because it did. Looking at all the products on the counter, he put on some deodorant, and brushed his teeth. He noticed he forgot to shave at home so he quickly did that. He knew that nobody would see his face due to the mask but he took advantage of the free razor and shaving cream. Before exiting the bathroom, he quickly spritzed some cologne onto himself. 

When he opened the door, he could see many people being ushered into a separate room. He walked up to one of the castles staff and asked where to go if he was auditioning. The guard pointed to the group of ushered people and Clay quickly made his way over to them. They were all led into a back room where 5 lines were formed. Clay jumped into one of the lines. When he reached the front, he grabbed a sheet of paper out of the stack in front of him and a pen. Then he made his way over to the waiting area and began filling out the paper.

It asked basic questions such as his name, which he put as dream, age, birthday, but the question that stumped Clay was what job he previously had. He couldn't think of any, He couldn't say he was working for The Sicarius. It wasn't until the cafe popped into mind. The short stubby man looked so scared of him, Clay was sure if he said he worked there, the small employee would follow along with the story. 

Him and the large group of people he was with were once again ushered back into the ballroom. It wasn't until now that he noticed the large ovens and counter space on a stage in the ballroom. That's why so many people were going to the castle, everyone was going to watch him. He felt like he was going to throw up at any moment. He brought his clenched fist up to his mouth and bit down on a knuckle. He was gestured to stand at a workspace on the far right. Thankful that it wasn't the middle. He was looking around before he heard a loud voice, the entire room quieted down. It was the king. 

“Hello everyone, welcome to the castle.” The king beamed. “As you know we need a few more bakers for the Halloween ball. There were plenty of people who wanted to audition, but we had staff looking around and had them choose a few people. There are now 20 people on that stage, but we're only allowing 4 of them to bake for the castle. Their only task is to bake 12 cupcakes. You may now begin, you have 1 hour.” A loud applause could be heard coming from every direction of the room, the king bowed and sat back down in his chair. One side of the room consisted of a long table, seating the most important people in the castle. The other end was the cooking spaces and the middle was filled with people watching.

Clay began looking around for all the ingredients he needed, gathering them all up. His mind was a blur as he worked. He couldn't process what he was doing, everything was going so fast. Most people were watching him as his name was abnormal and he was wearing a mask. It was starting to get hot and he could feel his face sweating. Putting his cupcakes into the oven he glances at the large timer mounted onto the wall. He has 32 minutes left. Good timing, even for him. Looking around, his eyes made their way over to the long table across the room. He made eye contact with the prince. Clay thought he was more attractive after actually seeing him, rather than just in pictures. He shook his head to clear the thoughts and ignored the light heat on his face. The prince didn't know they were making eye contact but it made Clay feel weird knowing the prince was watching him. 

Looking away he begins making the frosting. He was mixing the butter as the timer for his oven went off. Pulling out the cupcakes he sticks a toothpick into one of them. They were done, he thought they looked fine. He took them out of the pan and put them onto a cooling rack. 

He went back to making the frosting. Finally he was putting it into a piping bag. Hovering over his cupcakes, he thought about his sister and focused on making his cupcakes perfect, he still had 10 minutes left. He pressed lightly on the bag and watched frosting ooze out of the tip. When it touched the cupcake, it began to melt. Oh no. He messed up. The cupcakes were too hot, the frosting was melting. He felt his stomach turn. His hands were getting sweaty and he could feel his heart racing. 

“It will be okay,” he reassured himself. He tried again, making a sloppy tower of frosting on his cupcakes. His looked like absolute shit compared to everyones around him. While looking at everyone else's cupcakes, he heard the timer go off. 

He regretted everything. He regretted becoming friends with Sapnap all those years ago, he regretted working for Schlatt, he regretted dropping out of school, he regretted trying to bake stupid cupcakes for the castle. He just wanted everything to be over so he could go home, sit in a ball and cry on his couch, waiting for Schlatt to arrive and kill him and put him out of his misery. Schlatt probably wouldn't even kill him, he would just send out someone else who was working for him. He hated that the only thing he was living for was his sister. He didn't know what he was feeling at this point, was it nerves? Anger? Distress? He couldn't tell. He just wanted it to be over with. 

Someone from the castle's staff came and collected his platter of cupcakes, giving Clay a weird look, probably for the mask but she looked at him like she knew he was going to lose. Clay knew he was going to lose. Everyone's cupcakes got dispersed among the people at the long table. They all had 20 labeled cupcakes in front of them. Clays would be eaten last since he was at the last workstation. He was number 20. 

They all took a fork and ate a piece of number ones cupcake. Some had a neutral look on their faces, and some had looks of delight. Clay glanced over at number ones workstation. Her fists were clenched at their sides and she looked to be on the verge of tears. Clay was going to try and get her attention to give her a smile but then he remembered he was wearing a mask. When he turned away, everyone was already on the 3rd cupcake. This went on for a bit, Clay watching them eat, feeling them get closer and closer to his cupcake. 

Clay wouldn't even consider it a cupcake. It was dry and the frosting looked like a sad lump. It was embarrassing. Clay looked at the number of cupcakes that were going to waste. It was obvious that they weren't going to eat all 20 cupcakes, but Clay still felt bad that there was so much going to waste. Finally everyone punctured their forks into his cupcakes. Clay watched the Prince. He showed no emotion as he chewed and politely put his fork back down onto his plate. Glancing at everyone else, Clays eyes fell on the man that approached him before the auditions. The one that showed him the bathroom. His eyebrow was raised, Clay couldn't tell if it was because his cupcake was good or because he was disappointed. Clay went with the second option so he didn't let himself down in the future. Clay began thinking about what he was going to do after this while everyone at the table quietly talked to each other. 

The king speaking was what brought Clay out of his light day dream. “Thank you, to everyone here. All the cupcakes were very good, but unfortunately we don't need you all here.” Clay just stared at his feet, preparing to walk out of the castle and tell his sister the news. He really didn't know what he was going to do. “Number 5,” The silence in the room was so loud you could hear an ant crawling across the floor,” you will be working for the castle.” When Clay looked over at number 5’s station, she was already jumping up and down, crying tears of happiness. Her eyes averted to a couple people in the crowd, Clay assumed it was because of her family. If it was, she had a husband and 3 kids. She was clearly struggling with money as 2 out of 3 kids had strings holding their shoes together. Clay looked down at his own shoes, which were ugly and worn. The creases on the bottom had been caked with dirt. The once white checkmarks on the sides were now yellow and gross. He always bought the same shoes, just upping the size when needed. They were ugly and Sapnap made sure he knew that when they were younger. Constantly telling Clay to “up his style”. 

“Number 17,” Clay looked at the person just a few stations down from him, He was already smiling, knowing what was coming, “You will be working for the castle.” His hands flew to his mouth as he bent over in disbelief. He also started crying. Clearly tears of joy. Clay was getting worried. There were only two more sports that he knew he wasn't going to fill. Clay started shifting his weight from one foot to the other, lightly tapping his fingers on the side of his thigh.

“Number 9,” A loud scream could be heard as number 9 starting laughing. She got off the stage and hugged a large group of people before the king could finish. Clay looked at the king for a reaction but he just stood there with no emotion on his face. He could be misinterpreted for a statute in that moment. Number 9 looked like she didn't need any more money as she was wearing a nice dress and her hair looked like it had been professionally styled. She looked as if she went out drinking every weekend with a large number of friends. After number 9 settled down, the king spoke again, “You will also be working for the castle.” He didn't seem excited to have her as a baker, but deep inside he knew that he wasn't going to be the one who is dealing with her.

Clay felt like there was a giant rock in his throat. He was not ready. It was over a decade ago but he felt like he was back at his parents funeral, with a large lump suppressing the choked noises that were threatening to come out. His parents funeral was very small as he didn't have any money to pay for it, and any money he got from his parents was going to help pay their bills. They couldn't even afford a coffin, their dead bodies were just thrown into a hole a covered up. Clay squeezed his eyes shut and his nails were digging into the palm of his hand. Every holiday, including their birthdays, Clay and Drista would visit their grave and “catch them up” on everything going on around them. He didn't tell his parents about who he was working for until after they had died. One night he went to visit their grave and he just let everything spill out. Then he told Drista after she questioned why he was always gone. 

“Number 6,” When everyone looked at number 6 for a reaction, he just stood there like the king, face blank and hard to read. He didn't show any excitement over this, it almost took everyone aback. It was weird going from number nine jumping off the stage to number 6 not showing any emotion. He looked dead inside, with large under eye bags, his spine bent with bad posture, and his eyebrows drooping down. He looked as if he didn't need money, but it would be nice to have. He was wearing worn blue jeans with a few rips. His shirt was red and white but he got pink frosting on part of it. “You will be the last person chosen to work for the castle.” Number 6 just nodded his head.

Clay could feel his breathing come to a halt. He let everyone down. This was his only chance at getting into the castle and he ruined it. He just needed to bake some fucking cupcakes and he couldn't even do that. He noticed everyone leaving their stations and hugging their families. Clay had nobody to hug. He only had a sister to disappoint. He could feel the tears in his eyes getting harder to suppress. He looked up and started blinking as fast as he could to stop the tears from coming out. It wasn't until he remembered the bathroom the castle's staff had shown him. He needed to be alone. 

Weaving his way in and out of people, ignoring the comments about his mask, he made it. Walking in and locking the door behind him, he walked over to the mirror. He looked at himself as he clenched the counter with his fist. He leaned back against a wall before sliding down it. Bringing his knees to his chest. He let the tears start falling. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He was shaking and the tears in his eyes stopped him from being able to see clearly. He messed up, bad. He used to use the excuse that he was a kid, but he can't now. He's 21, he's an adult, he complains about not going to school but nobody his age is in school anymore. He pulls his sleeves up and uses his nails to start scratching himself, he's drawing blood. His arms feel hot and a few tears go into his mouth as he cries. His tears are salty. He gets up and starts pacing back and forth, unknowing of what to do. He grips his hair, he wants to scream, no..he _needs_ to scream. 

He grabs the edge of his mask, ripping it off and throwing it. He can hear the paper mache mask hit the ground with a light thud. Clay glances at the mask making sure it didn't break. He rips his hoodie off and brings it up to his face. Biting into his hoodie, he screams as loud as he can. He can hear the loud noises of people talking outside the bathroom door so he's sure that nobody can hear him. So he screams again, harder this time. When he chokes out a sob, his throat hurts. He can't breath. He's gasping for air, he drops his sweatshirt and when he looks back at the mirror he doesn't recognize himself. He was skinny with little muscle, his undereye bags were huge and he hadn't seen himself properly smile in weeks. It was as if he was staring at someone completely different from himself. 

He feels sick, he runs to the toilet and bends over. Everything he ate that morning was now in the toilet, along with a bit of blood. The only thing he can think about is his sister, and how upset she's going to be. His throat and nose burned while his mouth was dry. When he stood back up he felt dizzy. He leaned against a wall, waiting for the nausea to go away and the dizzy spell to pass by. When he finally felt stable enough to walk, he made his way over to the sink and turned on the faucet. He cups some water in his hand before leaning down to drink. The cold water felt good on his burning throat. He cupped more water and dipped his nose in his hands before inhaling. Water shot up his nose and he coughed it back into the sink. It felt gross but he didn't need his breath smelling like stomach acid and mixed food. The dried tears on his face make his skin feel like tight leather. His eyes are red and puffy and his arms are sore. 

He hears a knock on the bathroom door, he doesn't know how long he's been inside the bathroom but quickly yells that he will be out in a second. He washes the now dried blood off his arms, then throws his hoodie and mask back on before he heads out of the bathroom. He doesn't know what just happened, but he knows he's never experienced something like that before. He's tired, he wants to fall asleep and his eyes feel heavy. His body aches and he still feels sick. 

He weaves in and out of people once again, making his way back to the entrance before the man who offered him the bathroom earlier stops him. “Dream, correct?” the man asks. Clay looks up slightly at the man and raises an eyebrow before remembering the mask. Clay rubs the back of his neck and chuckles, “Uhh yeah, what can I do for you?” 

The man smiles brightly, displaying straight, white teeth. He grabs onto Clays shoulder and leans in, only about 5 inches away from Clays face, the only thing between them was Clays mask and the weight of the heavy air surrounding them, the taller man's eyes sparkled before he asked “How would you like to work for the castle?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a few things to say lmao
> 
> -YALL ARE NOT READY FOR WHATS COMING, I AM SO EXCITED  
> -6 people read this and 1 person left kudos, you dont even know how happy that makes me  
> -i know this is only chapter 2, but i already have chapters 3 & 4 done. i wont be posting on a schedule, ill just post whenever it feels right  
> -i keep updates on my twitter: @/aquaposeidon2  
> -the main theme was of this was gonna be baking but i found out i hate writing baking scenes so i re-wrote the entire plot 
> 
> \- i would really like HONEST feedback about this. I cant tell if its good or if I'm just so in love with the plot that I'm praising myself for it and not realizing it actually sucks. 
> 
> btw the song dream was singing was "sweater weather" by the neighborhood :))))
> 
> anyways i hope you enjoyed, have a good day :)


	3. Getting out is just as hard as getting in

Clay could feel his breath hitch, he didn't know how to feel at first. At first he was shocked at the other man's words, but he quickly flooded with joy and relief. He couldn't believe it, his face beamed with joy, Clay was certain that the other man could see the smile through his mask. 

“Y-yes i would love to! That sounds amazing, thank you so much!” That was all Clay could say. He wanted to jump on the other man and just give him millions of kisses while praising him. Clay was so thankful, the thought about his parents, were they watching him? He wiped the thoughts away just as the castles staff worker took their hands off his shoulder and spoke again;

“Amazing! I haven't properly introduced myself have I? I'm Eret, I am a servant for the castle, as you will be too.” Eret reached his hand out to Clay, and Clay hesitated before reaching his own hand out, when Eret didn't let go of Clay's hand, he remembered he needed to introduce himself too, even though Eret already knew who he was. 

“Oh I'm sorry, I'm Dream, I work at a cafe in the village.” Eret had just a glimpse of confusion on his face but it went away before Clay could say anything about it. 

Their hands parted as Eret began speaking again, “The castle is the most important building for miles around. Everyone knows that. People spend their lives working up the trust of the castle to be able to work here, and you have gained that trust. Dream, I have seen you going in and out of your house, hunting, shopping, and doing various other tasks.” Clay shivered at the word ‘tasks’. He hated that word. The amounts of times him killing people had been masked by the word ‘task’ was too many for any soul to handle. Either Eret didn't notice the shiver, or he chose not to say anything about it. 

“What you're going to do now is go back home, grab clothes for at least a week, any sentimental items that won't cause harm in the castle, and that's it. We will give you new clothes, new hygiene products, and you will live and serve in the castle.” Clay could only nod his head. He has told his sister that  _ it's just as hard to get out of the castle as it is to get in.  _ For at least 2 months, he was going to be stuck in a castle without his sister. 

Eret must have read his mind, “Any family in the village will  _ stay  _ in the village. No funny business with anyone, at all. You are now free to go, come back to the castle tomorrow afternoon and we can get started, I will be waiting.” Before Clay could ask any questions, Eret was gone. It gave him a deja vu like feeling, but he couldn't place where the familiar feeling was coming from. 

He turned and exited the castle quietly. A large contrast compared to everyone in the castle still being congratulated, as he walked out he could hear various people cheering and glasses clinking. He didn't know there was gonna be an after party, even if he did know, he wouldn't have stayed. He needs to get home.   
  
It must have snowed while he was in the castle because everything was covered in a very thin layer of white. It was warm under the hot afternoon sun, but he shivered as harsh winter winds hit him. Glancing at the large clock tower next to the castle, he could see it was only 4pm, but the sun was going to set soon. Clay walked with his head down, his emotions have been everywhere today. He thought back to what happened in the bathroom. He brought a hand up to his arm and lightly pressed, it stung. He didn't know what happened in there, he just knows he doesn't want it to happen again. 

He reaches the end of the castle's path and the entrance to the town square. Looking up, the square looks empty. Shops lights are off and there are only a few people around, doing last minute shopping in the shops that are actually open. He assumed that everyone was either in their homes or back at the castle. He needed to go home. 

\---

Walking through the snowy grass on his small yard, he could see a small light coming from inside his home. He could see his sister at the dining table with a candle lit. She was just staring at the light, her furrowed eyebrows showing she was clearly deep in thought. Clay cleared his throat and opened the door, ignoring its creek. He sighed as he lightly stomped his feet on the ground to get any snow off his shoes before taking them off. Then he slipped off his mask and hung it on the hook. 

He tried to hide his excitement, but the first thing he greeted his sister with was a beaming smile, which definitely did not go unnoticed. She quickly mirrored his smile and ran up to hug him. When she pulled back, she went over to the couch, and Clay followed quickly behind. She sat down and tucked her feet under her thighs, in a criss cross pattern. Clay just sat with his hands on his knees as always. 

Drista spoke first with excitement. “How did it go? Clearly well as I haven't seen a smile that big on your face in years, so tell me everything, don't leave out any details.”  
  
Clay couldn't help but smile more at his sister. She was exploding with anticipation. “Well,” he started, thinking back to when he first arrived at the castle only a few hours ago. “I arrived, they did a pat down and stuff. And this dude with a suuuuuper low voice came up to me and asked if I wanted to _freshen up.”_ he mocked a fancy accent when he said those words, which made Drista chuckle lightly, but waved him on, signaling him to continue. 

“I went into the bathroom, clearly shaved,” Clay did a circle motion in front of his face, “and I put on some stuff to make me smell good. Then they made us fill out papers without names and simple things like that. Obviously I put Dream, I'm not a buffoon.” He took a deep breath, trying to remember. It was really all a blur, most of the time he was in his own head thinking about other things. 

“We baked, obviously. There was only 20 of us though, and they had us make 12 cupcakes. One for each person at this really long table. I didn't know the village could watch, then you could have been there,” He thought for a moment, and happiness in him drained. Drista who clearly noticed put a hand on his knee for reassurance and to show she supported him. Which Clay was so thankful for. 

“I didn't win.” Clay wanted to cry, “There was only 4 ‘winners’” He brought his hands up to make air quotes, “who could have won and I wasn't one of them. The stupid fucking cupcakes were too hot. I sound like an absolute idiot right now Drista.” He huffed out an exhausted laugh and turned to his sister, who had a face full of concern. His voice sounded hurt. He didn't swear in anger often, so Drista knew not to say anything. He continued, “I was so stupid for thinking I could win a  _ baking  _ competition, for the  _ castle!”  _ He emphasized his words. 

“No, I didn't win, but when I walked off stage I went-” Blurred memories flooded into his head, the scratching, throwing his mask, puking his guts out. The emotions were coming back. He was going to leave his sister, while he worked in a castle. He was going to wear nice clothes and shower everyday while his sister was stuck here with cold water. He was abandoning his only friend, the only one who stuck by him, the only friend who never betrayed him. 

He started thinking about Nick. This was all Nick's fault. He couldn't breathe. He felt dizzy and nauseous again. His heart was racing and- 2 small hands grabbed his wrists, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was his sister. His best friend. Her eyebrows were slumped with worry and her eyes were glossy with tears. Clay hated seeing his sister cry, he always causes pain. His chest was quickly rising and falling, his lungs looking for any air he could get. 

Drista moved a little closer to him and just hugged him, she laid her head on his shoulder and he rested his head against hers. He could feel the tears forming, and he just let them go. He was thankful to have someone there for him, but he was a grown man, he needed to toughen up. He couldn't act like this while working for the castle. He grasped his own hands in his sisters, calming down. Small choked sobs and sniffles could be heard from Clay. He wanted it to be over. He didn't want to kill anymore, he didn't want to steal, he wanted to have a normal job, he wanted to see his sister, he wanted to live without worrying about money, he wanted to eat normally without thinking about if his sister had enough. He hated his life. 

Drista spoke softly, her choked and raspy voice came as a shock to Clay, he didn't know she was crying, “Want to talk about it?” when she lifted her head, a wet splotch on his sweatshirt was left. “Oh sorry!” She quickly apologized. 

Clay waved at her apology, showing that he didn't care about the wet spot, but he did nod, showing that he wanted to walk. He took what felt like the hundredth deep breath today. At least he couldn't feel his heartbeat anymore, but he was still short of breath. “I am going to live in the castle for at least 2 months, a-and I feel so horrible. I feel like i'm leaving you forever even thought I know i'm not.” a small awh could be heard from Clays sister. 

“I hate Schlatt so much. I hate him. I hate that I have to leave you for so long. You're still a kid, you should be in school, I should be working a normal day job, making normal money, we shouldn't have to dread showering because the waters cold, you shouldnt be cooking your own meals.” He was staring at the floor as he spoke with emotion. “I hate him for tearing our family apart. I hate him for not giving us enough money to afford a proper fucking funeral. I want to quit. Everything. I want to end it ALL BUT I CAN'T.” He was yelling now. Anyone outside could hear him, he didn't even notice he was standing until Drista pulled him back down onto the couch. With a small thud he fell back and looked at his sister with blurry, teared up eyes with nothing to say but “I'm sorry.” He was shaking his head and tears were falling down his face.

Neither of the two knew what to say. They were both left speechless. They sat in each other's comfort until Drista spoke. Startling Clay just a bit, “Clay, listen to me. I will be perfectly fine. You were left alone with me when you were 11 years old, you were left alone to take care of me. I will be fine by myself for a few months while you do your job. You're amazing, raising me since I was 4.” Clay could only nod as she spoke, not trusting his own voice. “But...If you didn't get a job as a baker, how are you staying in the castle?”

Still not trusting his voice, he cleared his throat a couple times before explaining, “Well that dude with the accent and low voice, his name is Eret. He offered me a job as a servant. I don't know how long he wants me to be a servant, probably until the day I die, but I just know I have a job to finish so it won't be the rest of my life,” He chuckled very lightly, “He said to go home, grab a weeks worth of clothing and any items that I have that actually mean something to me. He said we were not allowed to leave the castle, which I knew and family stays home. He walked off before I could ask anything else, but I have to be back at the castle tomorrow after noon.” He was out of breath by the time he finished. Drista just stared at him in awe. Clay blushed, embarrassed that he spoke so much, so fast, after hardly speaking at all. 

Dristas tear stained face saddened Clay. He was just as upset as her but he didn't want to show it. He focused his eyes on his hands folded in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. Drista didn't say anything, but quietly got up and made her way to the kitchen. Clay couldn't tell how she was feeling. Was she angry? Why wouldn't she say anything after Clay had just said all that. 

Clay was tired, he wanted to sleep, but he wouldn't while his sister was still awake, he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. When he heard the sizzle of butter in a pan, he knew she was cooking. He loved her cooking. She was so good at it and always made amazing food. Eventually he made his way into the kitchen, and gasped at the sight in front of him. 

Drista had just placed a piece of steak into the pan. It was small, only about 5 ounces but it wasn't anything they could afford. The only sort of meat they could afford was fish every once in a while when they had saved up long enough. 

“DRISTA THAT'S A STEAK!” Clay was shocked. He was truly shocked at his sisters actions. She was never the type to spend money like that, how were they going to pay for anything else. Clay was beyond worried, but this was clearly the reaction Drista expected.   
  
“Well, a few days ago you mentioned an investment. I didn't know what that was so I looked it up in a dictionary, and then read some books about it. You said the castle would give you more money than we have ever had.” Clay couldn't help but just stare at his sister. He wasn't guaranteed a job at the castle, yet she just blew so much money. 

“If you won, and got a job at the castle, then woo hoo, we can eat this steak-” 

“Drista, what would you have done if I didn't get the job, and you just bought expensive meat? What would you have done?” Clay interrupted her. He was mad, but tried not to show it. 

“Well I wouldn't have eaten as much as I normally do,” It was Dristas turn to be mad, “I would have been fine Clay. I already bought the steak, i'm already cooking it, there's nothing you can do at this point so let's just have a nice little celebration together before you leave me for 2 months.” The words stung. He didn't  _ want  _ to leave her. Did she think he wanted to leave her? Drista turned away before more could be said and put some corn into a small pot for the both of them. 

He ignored the situation and sat at the table, waiting for his food. He didn't want to leave her. Why would she say that? He needed to calm down before his heart literally exploded. He had experienced way too many emotions in one day. He got up, grabbed a cup, filled it with tap water and chugged. He filled it again, and chugged. He set the cup in the sink and made his way back to the table. Drista following behind with their food. 

She set down his plate in front of him, the sound of the plate hitting the table made a light clink. She had cut the piece of meat in half for the both of them, it wasn't much but they both had loads of corn on the side. It really didn't matter that they didn't have much food as neither of them were super hungry. They were both tired and grumpy, but neither wanted to sleep so soon, knowing these were their last few hours together. 

Clay tried to think of things he could do with his sister, but they didn't have a dvd player and couldn't afford any fun board games. They had a set of cards that might work. Everything they both did was independent. They both loved to read and write, Clay liked fixing things and repairing items but Drista did not. Now that Clay thought about it, he hardly knew his own sister. He couldn't think of things that she liked to do. 

“Hey Drista, I wanna do some fun things before I leave tomorrow, so uhh, what do you like to do? We never really get to do much together unless it's eating or just sitting and talking.” Clay asked, forgetting about being angry or upset, he just wanted to be with his sister. 

Drista finished chewing a spoonful of corn before she began speaking, “Um, I don't really know, I just kinda read books all day and do chores.” That hurt. He didn't know why but knowing that the only thing Drista does in her free time is chores and read made him feel bad. Like he wasn't offering enough fun opportunities. 

“Oh come on,” He can remember all the fun things his parents did with him. Clay looked around. Books, papers, plants, nothing fun. He got up and walked into her room, more books and papers. Her room really went well with the rest of the house, it was clear she was here more than him.

“What are you doing Clay? Go through any of my things and I won't hesitate to stab your eye out with my fork.” Drista said in a joking tone. Clay knew she wasn't serious about hurting him but she was serious about not going through her stuff. He looked around, seeing a few sketches of things hanging on the wall, there were a few plants on a shelf next to the window, and there was a tall stack of books from the library in the corner, waiting to be read. Her small bed in the far corner sat unmade and messy, blanket skewed. 

Trying to understand the confusing teenager that he was taking care of, he paid closer attention. There were pressed flowers on the floor, he spotted the flower he had left in the bathroom, it was in a pile of other dead flowers. He tilted his head a bit, confused. He jumped when he heard a voice behind him. It was Drista.   
  
“This is my room, it's messy because I never really expect you to come in here, the mess makes me feel comfy. It makes me feel like I dont always need my life clean and put together. Watchya lookin at anyways?” Did Drista feel like she needed to be perfect? Always clean and tidy? It's okay for life to be messy. 

“Um.. I was just looking around. We don't really do many things together, so I was looking for inspiration in your room. We could press the flowers you have left?” It was supposed to be a suggestion but it sounded like a question. 

Drista beamed, looking up at her giant brother, she nodded her head. 

\---

They were both sitting cross legged on Dristas bedroom floor, it was late into the night and the silence was loud. No bustling in the streets could be heard, and no talking could be heard from any houses around. That was a normal thing for everyone in the village, you could always hear people speaking due to the poorly built homes. 

One of Clay's favorite things in the house was the book of flowers. He has been pressing flowers since he was a kid. He used to just leave them around the house or give them to random people in the town, but then he started working for Schlatt. One of the first few tasks Schlatt had him do was steal a book. So he did what he was told, in fear of being killed. It was only about 3 weeks into his job and he proved to be hard working and tough, meeting every deadline and never backing out on a task. It was all out of fear. He told himself that a lot. He wasn't doing these things because he wanted to, it was out of fear. 

\---

Walking to the edge of the forest to meet a reporter, he silently waited, leather belt in hand. He remembered when his best friend Sapnap had first told him about The Sicarius, his task was to steal a leather belt, and now Clay was doing the same. He was whipping the belt around, smacking empty air until he saw someone emerge from the trees. The same tall man in black robes walked up to him.

Without saying anything, the reporter handed Clay a piece of paper and Clay handed the man the belt. Clay had never been given a piece of paper before. Looking at the paper, it had various names, dates, and locations. Confused, he looked up at the reporter. 

Clay hesitated before talking, “What am I supposed to do?” Clay knew not to say anything more than he was supposed to. He had been hit, cut, thrown, and kicked for saying things he wasn't supposed to, or things that were unnecessary. The man raised his hand and Clay braced for a slap across the face, squeezing his eyes shut, but nothing came. Instead the man grabbed the paper out of Clays hands. 

In his low voice that seemed to always amaze Clay, he explained; “These are the tasks that you can choose to complete. Some are harder than others, and some might take longer to do. Then as you can see, it shows the deadline and a location if needed. This is how we will start doing things. I give you a piece of paper and you choose the task you want to complete.”

Clay liked this, he had a choice in what he can do. Taking the paper back he skimmed over it. Under the column ‘tasks’ he saw one that peaked his interest. ‘Steal a book from the library.’ It needed to be done in 3 days. Easy, he could do that. 

“I'll steal a book, and meet you back here in 3 days with it at dusk.” The reporter took out another piece of paper and checked something off, but Clay couldn't see. He then pulled out the correct amount of money and gave it to Clay. Then the man took the paper back and disappeared into the woods. The library was his favorite place, so he could easily steal as he was well known there and they didn't really pay much attention to him. It was almost night time, he would steal the book tomorrow. It didn't say a specific book so he would just pick a random one off the shelf, preferably one he didnt think people would read, then they wouldn't notice it gone. 

\---

The next morning he woke up before the sun. Tip toeing around the house to make sure everyone was asleep before grabbing clean clothes and heading into the bathroom. When he slid his pants off, a few coins fell onto the ground, making loud clanking noises. He quietly swore as he remembered he forgot to put the money he got last night into the savings jar. He slipped clean pants on and made a mental note to put the money into the jar. 

When his parents counted the money, there was always more in there than they expected, not knowing about their son's secret job. They always thought it was their parents, or Clays grandparents, watching over them in the afterlife to make sure they were safe and healthy. He slid on his sweatshirt before heading out of the bathroom. Carefully walking around the house, he put the coins into the jar, slipped his shoes on, grabbed his mask and headed out of the house. 

By this time, only people who owned businesses were getting up. He took the long way to the library, making sure to avoid as many people as possible. It was dark and hard to see, the sun was only just now rising, heating up the cold ground. The grass was wet with early spring dew and the air was crisp.

Going around to the side of the library, he opened the back window and pulled himself up. Nobody was working yet, he only knew this because all the lights were off and nobody came to the library this early anyways. Walking around, he walks east. Large windows allow the morning sunlight to flood in. He grabs a random dusty book of the shelf and makes his way back to the window he came from. 

_ Flick, flick, flick.  _ Electric lights above him turned on, lighting up the building. If anyone came to the back of the library, they would see him. With his heart hammering in his chest he runs as quietly as he can back to his exit. He had grabbed a large book and it was too big to tuck under his arm. He threw it out the window and it landed onto the wet ground. 

He then stuck his lower half out the window, grabbed the edge of the window, and jumped down, simultaneously closing the window as he fell. The window made a loud screech that definitely caught the attention of anyone inside. He grabbed the book and ran as fast as his young legs would allow him too, the sun was up now and families were waking up.  _ His  _ family should be waking up. Uh oh.

He ran home, weaving in between buildings, the mask was making it hard to breathe. While running down the dirt path he saw Sapnap outside, after giving his friend a quick wave, he continued running. His house was nicer than most peoples, as both his parents had jobs and he helped as well. He walked inside, flung his shoes off as fast as possible, hung his mask up and quickly walked to his room. It wasn't until he flopped on his bed that he realized he was drenched in sticky sweat and was gasping for air. With his chest rapidly rising and falling, he stared at his ceiling. Then looked at the book next to him that had been lazily thrown in the midst of his rush. 

He sat up and began to read. 

\--- 

A day and a half later he was waiting by the tree line for the man with the low voice again. Just a few minutes after Clay had arrived, he saw the man emerge from the woods. The man was always quiet during these little...meetings, if you want to call them that. 

Clay went to hand over the book but the reporter didn't take it. Instead he spoke; “I saw you reading this book the other day.” Clay didn't know what to say or do. He froze, his face blank behind the mask. If he said the wrong thing he could be badly hurt. Thinking for a moment, then clearing his throat a few times to help stall before he needed to say something. 

“Yes I did.” That's all. Clay was scared to say anything more. He could go on forever about the contents of the book, but did not. He was scared. 

In his low voice he said “keep the book.” He then gave Clay his money and walked away. Clay stood there in shock. He thought the book was for Schlatt. 

\---

Now that's where he was now, pressing the last few of the alive flowers they had and keeping them safe in the flower book. The flower book being the book he stole all those years ago. Standing up and stretching, he could feel his knees crack. Drista soon follows. Both letting out loud sighs. 

Standing there, looking at the floor, there were books everywhere and the hot iron was sitting a few feet away from them. Drista laughed, Clay looked at her confused. 

“This was fun. I really did have a lot of fun Clay, I'm happy we got to finally spend time together without our minds being filled with other things.” This made Clay smile brightly, he pulled his sister into a hug. 

“I had fun too, and why do you keep the dead flowers? I picked one the other day and it had died in my pocket so I left it in the bathroom on accident. I saw it in your pile of dead flowers.” Clay asks, pointing to her collection of fragile flowers. Dead flowers were pointless, they were...well...dead. What's the point in keeping them?

Drista thought for a moment, then pulled out of the hug, grabbing clays forearms. It stung and he was grateful that his sister wasn't looking at his face, meaning she didn't see him flinch at the contact. Drista didn't say anything. Clay hummed in question and crouched down a bit to look his sister in the eyes. Her eyes were tired, they looked older than she was. 

With a deep breath, she began; “Because...after our parents died, and I know I was young so I didn't really know them,” She started with an annoyed tone, “but after they died, it made me realize that it doesn't matter if some _ one _ or some _ thing  _ was dead or alive, it was still beautiful and it still existed, so it should still be taken care of.” She looked down at her hands, gripping Clays arms. 

Clay knew what she meant, he noticed their parents grave. In the spring she would go plant flowers on the soil above them, and take care of the flowers as if she was taking care of their parents. Clay just brought her back into a hug, needing to think for a moment about what to say. They were always in each other's grasps when they were together since neither of them had anyone else to give hugs to. So any physical affection they got always came from each other. 

“I..” he realized he started too soon and needed to think again. With an exhausted sigh, he started again. “I love you Drista. You have always been my best friend, and I don't want you to feel bad because i'm leaving, but the best part is that i'm not going to be gone forever. We are siblings and there is nothing that can tear us apart. We can also send letters to communicate with each other while i'm in the castle. But seriously we need to go to bed because I have a big day tomorrow and I am exhausted.” They gave each other small smiles. 

Drista nodded and Clay left her room. He laid down on the couch, wood digging into his back. A familiar feeling. He felt warm and cozy. All the crying, heavy breathing, and tension he had gone through today left him feeling drowsy and tired. With one last glance at the clock, which read 1:27am, he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall im having so much fun writing this, you dont even knowwwww. Also, if your interested in the dreamp smp as a whole, i wrote out ranboo hearing dreams voice in his head so you can go read that if you want to. 
> 
> twitter: @/aquaposeidon2


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